


Temporary

by middleearth2asgard



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 02:33:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28520955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/middleearth2asgard/pseuds/middleearth2asgard
Summary: Just a (hopefully) cute Din/reader where Boba Fett has to play matchmaker/couple’s therapist.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Reader, Din Djarin/You
Comments: 2
Kudos: 131





	Temporary

With the knowledge that it was either now or never, you quickly shimmied up the ladder leading to the cockpit and banged loudly on the door. 

Din and Cara had just taken control of the Imperial ship, which meant that he wouldn’t be back for awhile. It wasn’t a lot of time, not enough for what you had planned anyway, but it would be a start. 

“Come in,” Boba Fett’s gravelly voice growled out from the other side. 

Slipping in quietly, you looked around the small space. It was so different from the cockpit of the Crest. It had, in life, been big enough to accommodate you, Mando, and the Child. Admittedly, it had been a tight fit, but not as bad as this. 

“You need something?” he asked. 

Fett’s voice seemed to always have a tone of hostility to it. Yet, in the short amount of time you’d known him, you had decided that he wasn’t so bad. 

True, he definitely possessed a savage streak of viciousness that your Mandalorian (You pushed that thought out of your mind. He wasn’t “your” Mandalorian, as much as you wished he was) didn’t have. But, he’d freely offered to do whatever was needed of him to help you and Din get Grogu back. That, in and of itself, was enough to warm you up to him. There was also the fact that he had a developed a habit of referring to you as “little one.” You had accepted it as a display of friendliness from a man who seemed anything but. 

“I have a favor to ask. It’s perfectly fine if you say no. Don’t feel pressured.” 

“I never feel pressured to do anything I have no intentions of doing.”

It’s a response that could be perceived as bordering on rude. But, from him, you know it’s merely a statement of fact.

“Will you teach me how to fight?” 

That garners a turn of his head and now his full attention is on you. 

“What?” 

“I want you to teach me how to fight.” 

He’s bewildered. It’s a strange request, particularly from you to him. 

“You seemed to handle yourself fine on Tython.”

It isn’t a ‘no’; he just needs to understand where this is coming from before he agrees to anything.

You know he’s referring to your shooting. And it’s true that you are a pretty good shot. Hell, you had the best teacher there is (Din, of course) so how could you not be? But, you need more than that. 

“I need to know how to handle myself in an actual fight...hand to hand.” 

“Why aren’t you asking Mando?” 

There it is. You figured you wouldn’t get off that easy. 

“I did,” you began quietly. “A couple of weeks ago. He told me ‘no,’ then spent the rest of the day sulking in the cockpit with the door locked.” 

It was the only time you could ever recall him behaving towards you in any way that could be described as angry. The Mandalorian was not prone to anger. Like anyone, he experienced bouts of frustration, irritability, grumpiness... usually when something on the Crest broke for the millionth time or someone changed the terms of a “deal” he’d made with them, further complicating whatever it was he was trying to accomplish at the time. But, there wasn’t anger in him. In fact, beneath the Beskar and a lifetime of warrior training lived a man with a compassionate soul. He was respectful, gentle, and easygoing with those he felt were deserving of such treatment. And, though you knew he’d deny it if you ever pointed it out, he was a total pushover. 

That’s why his very definite refusal of your request, and his subsequent pouting, had put you off the idea of asking him again. But, there was no reason you couldn’t ask someone else. 

Fett responded with nothing more than a hum. 

“I would have asked Cara,” you began again, hoping to sway him. “But, they’ve been friends a long time, and I’ve known her almost as long. I didn’t want to put her in an awkward position.” 

“But I’m a different story?” he asked. “You don’t care if he gets angry with me?” 

Shit, that wasn’t exactly what you meant. 

Looking at him, you replied, “Honestly, I figured you wouldn’t give a damn.” 

You’re surprised when he laughs. 

“You’re right. I wouldn’t. Alright, little one, I’ll do it.”

“Great! Can we start now?”

“Now?” 

“Yeah, while he’s not here to argue that this is a bad idea...for whatever reason that he thinks it is a bad idea.” 

He clicks a few buttons on the console then follows you down the ladder. He guides you over to the center of the floor and places his hands on your shoulders. 

“Stand still.” 

You watch as he slowly walks around you, appraising your body as he does so. 

“Do you have any experience at all?” he asks after he seems to have thoroughly inspected you. 

“No.”

“Guessed as much from looking at you,” he replies, his eyes not leaving your body. 

What the hell does that mean? Is there something that wrong with your form? 

Instinctively, you glance down to give yourself a once over. 

As if reading your mind, he chuckles and says, “There’s nothing wrong with your figure. Believe me.”

You look up to find him smirking at you. It crosses your mind that if he were fifteen years younger and didn’t look like he’d been used as a chew toy, he might have quite a way with women. Briefly, you wonder about that partnership between him and Fennec...nah it’s best not to go there. 

He starts by showing you some very basic maneuvers, then has you practice them again...and again...and again. You really begin to appreciate the time and effort that Din must have put into his training to be as good as he is. 

“Alright, little one, you’re never going to beat a man in a straight fist fight so don’t try it. He’ll have the upper hand in terms of upper body strength. You have to learn to use what you’ve got. Your legs and your body weight are your best bet.”

“My body weight?” you ask, raising your eyebrows at him. 

“It wasn’t meant as an insult,” he replies with the same smirk from earlier. “What I mean is you have to use your whole body. Try to throw him off balance. I want you to give me your best shot.” 

“Using what you’ve shown me?”

“No, I want to see your instincts and how you move on your own.” 

You stand there for a moment studying him. There was no way this wasn’t going to end up with you flat on your back. If you went for his middle, you’d be toast. His legs didn’t seem like a better option though. Maybe if you went high? If you could latch onto his shoulders? But, how would you get that far up? That was quite a jump. He was, however, standing next to one of the ship’s seats. It wouldn’t make a bad stepping stone...

What happened next was a one in a million...no, more like one in a billion...kind of long shot. Yet, somehow every factor just happened to line up in a certain order. Maybe if you hadn’t been so preoccupied with your plan of attack you would have heard Fennec yelling down from the cockpit that the ship was landing? Or if she hadn’t felt the need to tell him at all then he wouldn’t have turned around? 

Well, whatever might have been didn’t really matter when, a few moments later, the pair of you went tumbling to the floor, with you latched onto Fett’s shoulders like the Child when you gave him rides. He’d told you to give it your best shot, so once you were on the floor you wrapped your legs around his neck in what you thought might pass as a chokehold. When he started trying to pull your legs apart, you grabbed your feet in an attempt to provide more resistance, essentially turning yourself into a human pretzel. Neither of you wanted to hurt the other, but you didn’t want to admit defeat either. Whether it lasted for several seconds or several minutes you didn’t know, but it was finally interrupted by a very upset, modulated voice barking Fett’s name. 

You turned your head to see Din storming up the ramp with Cara behind him. The confused expression on her face made you realize how odd this scene must appear to someone not privy to all the details: you straddling Old Man Fett’s neck with his hands grabbing the insides of your thighs. 

“He was teaching me how to fight,” you said quickly as you scrambled to your feet, your embarrassment causing you to forget that that probably wouldn’t improve Mando’s mood much. 

“He what?” he growled. “I thought we discussed this.” 

“No, we didn’t. I asked you, you said ‘no’, then you pouted like the Child does when he can’t have what he wants. That’s not a discussion. If you don’t want to teach me, that’s fine. But, it doesn’t mean I can’t ask someone else.” 

Ignoring your response, he directed his attention to Boba Fett. “It ends right now.” His tone said he would take it personally if it didn’t. Without another word, he stomped off in the direction of the cargo hold. 

“What the hell is wrong with him?” you said, sitting down with a huff. 

Lowering her voice so only Boba could hear her, Cara said, “How about you take this one? I haven’t had much luck.” 

“Got it.” 

Once you and Fett were alone again, you looked at him apologetically and said, “Sorry about that.” 

“Don’t worry about it.” 

Several silent moments passed before he asked, “Why do you want this so bad anyway when he’s dead set against it? Do you...not feel safe with him?”

“Mando is a great guy,” you piped up defensively, misinterpreting Boba’s meaning. 

“No, I meant...do you doubt his ability to protect you?” 

“Of course not.” 

In spite of how dangerous traveling with Mando could be, you’d honestly never felt safer. You knew he’d lay down his life in a heartbeat to protect Grogu and you, though you dreaded the idea of it ever coming to that. 

Fett was still looking at you expectantly, obviously waiting for you to elaborate. 

With a sigh, you finally admitted, “Once we find a Jedi for the Kid, then he’ll go with them and he won’t need me anymore...and neither will Mando. I thought if I learned how to be useful some other way then maybe-“

“He wouldn’t unload the kid, dump you on the nearest system, and say ‘have a nice life’?” 

Damn he was blunt and you told him so. You meant more to Din than that. He trusted you with both his foundling and his name. You were his...friend.  
The term put an unpleasant taste in your mouth. It shouldn’t; you knew that. Having someone as private and guarded as Mando consider you a genuine friend should be an honor, but the greedy part of you had always wanted more.

Not so long ago, none of this was a problem. Okay, so it was a reoccurring worry. But it was one that you were able to push to the back of your mind. _One day_ , Din would find some more Mandalorians. Then _eventually_ , they’d chart their way through the coverts until _maybe, at some point_ , he’d actually find a Jedi. It could’ve taken years. 

Then, you met Bo-Katan. Not only did she know exactly where to find a Jedi, but she wanted his help reclaiming Mandalore once his quest was done. The clock suddenly felt like it was ticking down and you were running out of time. What place could you possibly have in his life while he was helping a Mandalorian princess? Perhaps, the thought of that also made you a bit jealous, though you weren’t going to admit it. 

That’s when you’d asked him to train you. You’d never dreamed he’d be so opposed to the idea. But, for a moment, it seemed as if it wouldn’t matter. Ahshoka had refused to take the Child, which put you back at square one. Selfishly, you hoped that the existence the three of you led could go on this way forever. 

After recent events, however, you realized that this wasn’t what was best for Grogu. His safety and well-being meant more to you than anything. You’d simply have to learn to adapt to whatever changes came your way. 

“I don’t think you have anything to fret about,” Fett said quietly. 

“Right, cause he’s going to want to take care of a babysitter when there’s no baby.” 

“You look after him too though, don’t you?”

You snorted. “I try. He’s always doing something idiotic and reckless and...brave and...wonderful.”

“Maybe he likes that...having someone worry over him. Someone he can take care of in return.” 

——————

Din roughly hopped up on one of the crates in the cargo hold, pulling his blaster out of its holder. Did it really need cleaning again already? No. But, it was something to keep his hands busy. The loud slamming around of parts as he worked was a clear indicator of his frustration. 

“Pouted like the Child does when he can’t have what he wants.” 

That’s what you’d said to him. 

That’s how you’d described him. 

He’d had no response, of course. What was he going to say? That you were right. That you’d hit the nail on the head. That he wanted things the way they were before all this. When you looked at him with the shine of complete, unwavering faith in your eyes. When you worried over him while still believing in him. When you made him feel cared for...maybe even loved...

It was his own fault. He knew that. It had all started when he’d failed to protect you and the foundling. That was already a massive failure, in and of itself, but needing to be rescued by Bo-Katan and her clan...twice...in the same day...was _humiliating_. He’d tried not to dwell on it. These things do happen. Besides, his actions on the Imperial ship had made up for it in his own mind. 

But, you hadn’t been there to see that. You’d only witnessed his shortcomings. So, when you came to him only a couple of days later saying that you wanted to learn how to protect yourself, he knew it couldn’t be a coincidence. He wanted to tell you that you didn’t need to know how to protect yourself. That that was his job. That you were his...his...well it was his job. But, if you’d lost faith in him, what difference would telling you that make? That’s why he locked himself up in the cockpit, nursing his wounded pride. It had hit him not just as a warrior, but as a man. 

Then, he’d lost the Crest...and everything he owned...and the kid...and broken his creed all in a matter of days. Now, he’s learned that your belief in him is so shaken that you felt the need to go to someone else. Not just someone else, but another _man._ Cara or Fennec would have been bad enough, but _Fett_? Din couldn’t take much more. 

The truth was he _needed_ you to need him. He felt terribly inexperienced with any type of displays of affection, and he was no better with words. Hell, he hadn’t even been able to say “I love you” to the kid yet, and he couldn’t talk back. How was he going to say it to you when you could turn him down? Protecting and providing for you was the best way he knew to show you how he felt...and now it wasn’t enough. 

But, he was going to fix it. He was going to get the kid back, and everything would go back to the way it was. It didn’t matter what he had to do, even if it killed him. 

——————

“You really think I damaged his manhood?” you asked. 

Your interesting choice of wording caused an amused expression to cross Boba’s face. Before he could comment, you said, “I meant, hurt his feelings.”

“The male ego is a fragile thing. He’s lost a lot the last few days. It wouldn’t surprise me if he was feeling a bit...inadequate.” 

You snort in disbelief. 

“Mando? Inadequate?” 

That was a hard thing to imagine. He always seemed so very adequate...in every way. You were pulled from your wandering thoughts by Fett clearing his throat. 

“Should I go talk to him? What do I say?” 

“Something that says ‘I believe in you’...but doesn’t say ‘Fett told me all this.’” 

A grin breaks out across your face. 

“Scared of what he’ll do?”

He squinted his eyes at you, then said, “He’s a pup. I can handle him.” 

“Big talk for a man who let himself get beat up by a weak, little girl. Maybe you’re the one who should be feeling inadequate.” 

Who’d have ever thought you’d have the guts to tease a guy like Boba Fett this way? Maybe you’d have no trouble adapting after all.

He laughs at you. It’s a full-blown, hearty laugh and it almost seems strange to see it coming out of him. 

“Anytime you want to go for round two, let me know. I’ll show you I’m more than big talk.” 

“Whatever you say, old man.” 

You walk to the cargo hold to find Din sitting on a crate cleaning his blaster. You have no idea that he’s been there performing that same task the entire time. If he works on it much longer, the blaster isn’t even going to function right anymore. But, his mind is far away from what he’s doing. 

“Hey,” you say quietly. 

He doesn’t verbally respond, but gives you a small nod to acknowledge your presence. 

“May I sit?” you ask politely, just in case he’d still rather be alone for awhile. 

Another nod. 

You join him on the crate, close enough that your side brushes against his. It doesn’t go unnoticed by him. 

“Pershing says the kid’s alive,” he says at last.

You let out a relieved sigh. 

“He’ll be back with us soon then.”

“Hopefully.” 

Under normal circumstances, you’d think his voice sounds as it usually does. But, after your talk with Fett, you notice that there’s a trace of uncertainty there that he’s trying to hide. 

“Of course he will be. Grogu knows you’re going to come get him. He knows you’d always come to his rescue when he gets in trouble. He’s probably sitting there, watching the door, waiting for you to come busting in and show them what happens to people who mess with your kid. He has complete faith in you...and so do I.” 

At some point during your spiel, Din’s hands have stopped moving. He’s holding them as if he just froze mid-action. There’s something he wants to ask you, but he’s afraid to...worried that the question might start an argument...or worse that he won’t like the answer. But, he has to know. 

“Why’d you go to Fett?”

It’s a simple sounding question, but it goes much deeper than he’s letting on. _Don’t you know I’d do anything to protect you? Why didn’t you trust me? Why did you need anyone else?_

With a sigh, you answer softly, “Once the kid has a Jedi, he won’t need me. When you no longer have a foundling, you won’t need me, either. My place in both of your lives is...temporary. I guess I wanted to find a way to try to change that.” 

One side of Din’s lip twitches upward. It never occurred to him that maybe you were both worried about the same thing in your own separate ways.

“There’s nothing temporary about you...to me or the kid,” he says finally. 

_“There’s nothing temporary about you?” he thinks. “What the hell kind of response is that? It sounds like the same kind of cryptic Jedi nonsense that Ahshoka liked to use.”_

He turns his head to look at you, hoping to figure out a way to explain what he was trying to say, to find that you’re staring at him with big, glistening eyes. 

The same eyes you used to look at him with. The ones he’d thought he’d lost. 

“Really?” you ask quietly. 

It’s hard for him to think with you gazing at him like that, and talking isn’t any easier. 

He squeezes out a simple, “Yeah.” 

It must be enough, though, because you reach over and rest your hand on top of his. Taking ahold of it, he begins caressing it gently. It feels nice...holding your hand like this. It’s simple...comfortable...there’s no overthinking involved. 

You stay like that for several minutes before he says, “If you really want to learn how to fight, I’ll teach you.” 

“Whatever you think is best. I trust you.” 

Without thinking, you add, “I might get lucky and get you in the same position I had Old Man Fett in.” 

Din doesn’t comment, but you hear a strange sound come from his helmet. It suddenly dawns on you how suggestive that must have sounded to him, but you choose not to say more. 

After all, it’s starting to seem like you’ll have plenty of time.


End file.
